


Stress Relief

by Barrhorn



Series: Meme Reposts [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Implied Pharah/Zarya, More fluff than porn, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 17:43:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7397215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barrhorn/pseuds/Barrhorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mercy is a talented doctor, for sure. Able to fix a person up in a pinch, she's ever present on the battlefield and in the medbay. But after dark there's another reason why people go out of their way to see her - she knows just how to release that stress everybody's got building up, and she loves doing it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress Relief

It starts with Fareeha sweeping into her room like a storm, catching her in her arms and kissing her deeply. Angela knows this mood; they’ve done this before. So she’s prepared when Fareeha breaks the kiss and looks at her almost desperately. “May I?” she asks.

Angela cups Fareeha’s cheek with one hand, and Fareeha closes her eyes and turns her face into it, her breath tickling against the doctor’s palm. “Please,” is all Angela says, but it’s enough to make Fareeha pick her up and carry her to the bed. The gentleness of her arms is a reassurance after the rough press of that first kiss, and Angela links her hands behind Fareeha’s neck and draws the soldier down to the bed after her.

She wonders what happened to bring Fareeha to this state. The first time they’d done this she’d cut a swathe through the Talon forces but they’d lost the payload anyway. And Fareeha had returned to the base, struggling to reconcile the carnage of the loss with the posters of her childhood.

“I was foolish to think I could be some sort of hero,” she’d said when Angela had probed the issue during the post-battle exams. “What good am I doing?”  
“Without you there would’ve been a lot more casualties on our side,” Angela had pointed out, but Fareeha had waved it away, not placated in the least.  
“I want to improve things, Angela. I want to be able to say that I made a difference.”

She’d run a finger over Fareeha’s lips to silence her. “You make a difference to me,” she’d said, and kissed her. After a moment of hesitation, Fareeha had kissed her back, then proceeded to tease out every gasp and shiver Angela had in her.

It’s jut an alternate form of therapy, Angela supposes, brushing Fareeha’s hair out of her face to see her smile. When in doubt, some people like to talk. Fareeha likes to put Angela on her back and worship every inch of skin she can reach.

She’s certainly not complaining. She’s all whispered encouragement and soothing hands, but Fareeha’s never satisfied until those whispers become just her name over and over, until those hands convulse in the sheets.

It’s only after Angela soars and comes back down to earth that Fareeha’s eyes lighten, that she collapses next to Angela and pulls her into her arms. She nuzzles too-sensitive skin until Angela laughs and pretends to swat her away.  
“I love you,” Angela says, brushing her lips across Fareeha’s forehead, and they fall asleep in a tangle of limbs.

\---

It starts with Zarya standing blindfolded in her room, head turning each way, trying to track Angela’s movements. The doctor stands still, trying not to laugh at her earnest concentration and give away her position.  
“This is not large room,” Zarya says, a little louder than necessary. “I will find you soon.”  
“Only if I let you,” Angela answers, sliding to her left as Zarya whips around toward her voice. But Zarya is getting better at this game: where once she would’ve rushed Angela’s previous position, now she knows that Angela never stays put for long.

It had been their fourth time together when Zarya had suggested this. “I must always know where my comrades are,” she’d said seriously. “Must be able to find them with eyes closed. How else can I protect them?”

Angela smiles to herself as Zarya turns the wrong way and takes a cautious step forward. The woman seems so young at times. She knows better than most that life does not always go the way she may want, but is still learning how to best take what the world gives her. Angela glances behind her, sees her bed there, and makes a decision. She darts in toward Zarya, brushing her fingers across the woman’s bicep, and then throws herself to the side.

Zarya cannot resist that bait. She turns and _lunges_ -

and misses, ending up half sprawled on the bed. She growls a note of frustration, but before she can rise Angela has jumped on top of her, wrapping her arms in an embrace around her shoulders. “Caught you,” she laughs.  
Zarya pushes her blindfold up and throws it to the corner, turning her head and glaring at Angela out of the corner of her eye. “You cheated,” she rumbles.

“Do not mistake strategy for cheating,” Angela responds primly. She doesn’t get a chance to gloat before Zarya breaks free from her grasp, only to turn over and grab Angela by the waist, tugging her forward and settling her over her own hips. “You-“ she starts, only for Zarya to roll her hips up into Angela’s… with a distinctly different feeling than usual. She looks down and spots a bulge that had been hidden by Zarya’s shirt before. She unzips Zarya’s pants just enough to confirm the strap-on for what it is, then raises an eyebrow at the woman below her. “You came prepared. And confident.”

“I have you now, don’t I?” Zarya responds, rolling her hips up again.  
She can’t answer right away, chewing her lip and fighting against the wave of heat that each movement and Zarya’s cocky grin sends through her. “Cheating,” she finally accuses.  
“Strategy!” Zarya laughs, and pulls Angela down for a kiss.  
“I love you,” she murmurs against her lips, and means it no less fully.

\---

They know about each other of course, even if Angela can’t recall ever discussing it. Then again, she’s noticed them sitting together on the transport, their legs touching. Or when they’ve spent a suspiciously long time in the weight room showers. She’s considered “accidentally” walking in on them there, but the moment’s never right.

\---

It starts with her being kidnapped.

She’d been working late in her office when someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” she’d called, turning away from the screens in front of her to find Zarya, clad only in a tank top and underwear, looking down at her with a small frown.  
“…Is this a social visit?”  
Instead of answering, Zarya had bent down and picked Angela up, slinging her over one shoulder like it was nothing.  
“Hey!” She'd never liked being manhandled, even if she could appreciate the view.  
“It is two a.m.,” Zarya had said flatly. “There is no more working now.”

Zarya had marched them out of the office, then opened a door with her shoulder, her arm tightening across Angela’s back as she announced, “I told you I would bring her!”  
Angela hadn’t the time to consider the implications of that line before Zarya had gently placed her upright on the bed.

Right next to where Fareeha was sitting. The Egyptian’s lips had quirked up into a smile. “And you came completely willingly, I see.”  
Angela had leaned back on her hands, looking between the two women, each of them waiting with nothing but patience and affection. “What is this?” she’d asked. It’s a question none of them had ever asked.

Zarya had laughed. “Stress relief!” And then she’d looked at the two on the bed - Angela noticed Fareeha nod in her peripheral vision - and softened, bending down to be more level with the other two. “And maybe something more,” she’d said.

That “something more” has turned into this: Angela cursing them in German as Fareeha behind her laughs quietly and kisses her neck. It doesn’t matter that they can’t understand her; they surely get the gist. And she has the feeling that they wouldn’t heed her even if they did understand.

A strong arm is wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into Fareeha’s chest so that she can feel the hard muscles of her stomach as well as her breasts against her shoulder blades. Zarya kneels on the floor in front of her, watching, her fingers tracing circles on Angela’s inner thigh almost idly. That’s the cause of her outburst: that wonderful, damnable woman had trailed touches and kisses up her legs only to stop there?

She feels a hand glide over her other thigh, and Fareeha’s long fingers slip between her legs. Her head crashes back into Fareeha’s shoulder as the woman just brushes her clit, fingers sliding up and down her slit but never giving her anything but the lightest of touches.

“Don’t tease, Aleksandra,” Fareeha mock-scolds, even though she’s doing just that. And Angela doesn’t care that she’s moaning an agreement, doesn’t care that trying to press her hips up into Fareeha’s touch means she’s also pressing closer to Zarya. Doesn’t even care about the realization that Fareeha set her up for that because _mein Gott_ Winston somehow messed up the background checks and these women are evil, it’s the only explanation-

“If you insist,” she hears Zarya say with a chuckle, and then Fareeha spreads her open and Zarya’s lips and tongue are teasing through her folds and what else is there for her to do but tangle one hand in Zarya’s hair and hold on for dear life.  
She’s hit with wave after wave of pleasure, especially when Fareeha’s fingers start playing with her clit again, but it’s not until Fareeha practically purrs in her ear, “Come for us, ya amar,” that she absolutely falls apart.

She opens her eyes onto a familiar smirk, Zarya looking entirely too pleased with herself. She’s captured Fareeha’s wrist in her hand, and, after a glance at Angela to make sure she’s watching as well, deliberately brings those long fingers to her mouth, sucking them clean. Angela feels as much as hears the breath catch in Fareeha’s throat.

“We should sleep sometime,” the woman tries to point out, her voice trembling when Angela languidly runs her fingernails up the leg pressed against hers.  
Zarya winks at Angela. “No. This is much better idea.”  
Angela smiles. Oh yes. Her revenge starts now.

\---

It starts with Fareeha walking into the clinic stiffly, her shoulders tight. “Torbjörn tried modifying my suit. Jet malfunctioned on the test flight and I crashed. They sent me here.” Her voice is low and terse, and she refuses to meet Angela’s eyes.  
Figuring it’s best just to rip the band-aid off of whatever is clearly bothering the soldier, Angela makes her sit on the exam table. “Take off your shirt and let me see.”  
Fareeha hesitates, then pulls the shirt off over her head.

Angela, despite years of perfecting her bedside manner, has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at Fareeha’s chagrined expression and the many, many bite marks that line her shoulders.  
“It’s not funny,” Fareeha says when she sees Angela’s bright eyes, a flush showing even on her dark skin.  
That’s enough to send Angela over the edge, moving forward to embrace Fareeha, hiding her face in her neck as her shoulders shake with silent laughter.  
“Half of these are your fault, you know,” Fareeha grumbles, but her arms circle Angela willingly and without hesitation. It lets Angela indulge herself a moment longer before setting about soothing her girlfriend’s ruffled feathers.

\---

It starts with the three of them outside the watchpoint, one cool and clear evening. Zarya stands in the middle of a clearing, the blindfold around her eyes once more. Angela nods to Fareeha, holding up three fingers, two, one-

They’re supposed to come in at the same time, then dodge in opposite directions. It’s supposed to confuse Zarya, make her have to choose which shadow to follow. Instead she reaches out with both arms at the same time, grabbing them both and pulling them to her with a roar of laughter.  
Fareeha punches her arm in congratulations, and Angela applauds lightly. “Well done, bärli,” she says.  
But Zarya is too pleased with herself to let it end there. “ _Nyet!_ ” she exclaims, scooping them up and hugging them closer, their feet off the ground, her eyes still hidden by the blindfold. “I am _huge_ bear!”

Zarya’s loud laughter at her own joke drowns out Fareeha’s, and all Angela can do is roll her eyes and press a kiss to Zarya’s cheek.

\---

It starts now with her going to their door just as often as they to hers.


End file.
